Mary Anne's Life-Altering Choice
by mcpon14
Summary: Mary Anne makes the most important decision of her life in this story. Alternate universe. Oneshot. Mary Anne is the narrator.


"But Mary Anne! Can't you think it over some more?" Kristy wailed.

"My mind is made up," I said with my lips quivering.

Don't cry. Don't cry. As I thought this, I clutched the handle tighter of the butcher cleaver that I was holding. You should've seen me in the store buying this thing. (We have kitchen knives in our house but I needed one that was much larger.) I was bringing it to the counter with much trepidation, just absolutely waiting for the alarms to sound the moment I set it in front of the cashier. As she was ringing me up, I was half-expecting to be grabbed from behind by security personnel at any moment.

I felt the tears at the brim threatening to spill over. I blinked them away while looking at the calendar that was hanging on our dads' (Richard Spier and Watson Brewer) living room wall. I was kneading the handle of the cleaver in my hand.

We were sitting on the couch in the living room of our dads' house and I had just told my best friend since birth that I wanted to replace her in that role with somebody else.

I took a quick peek over at her and only glimpsed her right cheek. It looked taut. I didn't want to see how her mouth was. I winced at how clenched I imagined it to be.

I wished that she would just say something. Her silence was so ominous. It made me think that I was in for something later. I dreaded that prospect.

I didn't want to venture a word in case that was not the right move.

Then I noticed how sweaty my palm was, so I set the cleaver down on the cushion and wiped my hand on my pants leg.

I took another peek. She was still staring straight forward. She hadn't moved a muscle. I just wished that she would let me in on what she was thinking.

Then my heart broke for her. I wanted to tell her right then that I didn't mean it, that I didn't want to switch her out for Dawn as my best friend, after all, and that I had made a huge mistake and wanted her forgiveness. I felt my mouth open out of its own volition to speak those words . . . but I clamped them down. _Oohh_, I realized. So that's your game, Kristy. You are trying to stall me out. You wanted me to break under the tension of your anger. Well, I don't blame you. I really DO want to take away the pain I'm causing you but not at the expense of what I felt like I had to do.

I looked over at her and gave her an apologetic look. I wanted to convey to her that I was sorry. I was trying hard to will her into giving me a sign that she had received the message but her face was staunchly unmoving.

I looked down at my hand and at all of the lines on my palm. They looked like roads in a neighborhood. I spotted Bradford Court there in my imagination. I saw a beam from a flashlight blink from one house to another followed by a returning blink.

Then on the bottom left corner of my palm, I saw Stoneybrook Elementary in my mind. My attention zeroed in on the playground where a fifth grade Kristy Thomas (I was there too.) was pouring Yoo-Hoo down Justin Forbe and Alan Gray's shirt. Thinking about that made my eyes widen in alarm, so I peeked over at Kristy trying to gauge how angry she really was.

I gulped - a little louder than I had hoped.

Her face softened.

She wore a resigned look. She looked reluctantly accepting of my decision. At last.

She exhaled noisily out of her nostrils.

"Okay. Let's get this over with." she said in a deadpan manner.

I was surprised as she stood up since she lurched me up with her.

She started to walk to the dining room.

"Wait!" I exclaimed.

"What?" she said in an exasperated way.

She still was looking straight ahead.

"I forgot the thing," I said sheepishly and we jerkingly did an aboutface.

I quickly grabbed the knife and we proceeded to our destination. I was cowering into myself the whole time that we went, trying my best not to offend her in the slightest. I could feel the steam built up in her head like a bull before he flares his nostrils. I paid special attention to my grip on the handle. I didn't want the cleaver to slip out of my hand out of being too preoccupied with trying not to antagonize her.

Dawn and Sharon were sitting at the dining table when we arrived there. Sharon seemed dejected but gave off the vibe that she was trying to be supportive of Dawn's decision.

"Hi, Dawn and Sharon," I said with exaggerated cordiality. "Are you guys ready?"

Dawn and Sharon nodded in unity: Dawn with a sympathetic look over at Sharon while Sharon did it with glistening eyes.

They placed their heads flat on the table laying on a cheek. Sharon had her hair folded over to the side in order to expose as much of her nape as possible. I stood over them and brought down the butcher cleaver on Sharon's neck severing it from hers and Dawn's body. Now Dawn only had her head on the body that she had previously shared with Sharon's head.

I looked over at Kristy who had finally deigned to look over at me. She had an anachronistic tear trickling down the tough, hardened exterior of her face. This was the last time that her head and mine are going to share a body. It was our turn.

* * *

We had already arranged it with Richard and Watson that Dawn and I were going to stay at their house while Kristy and Sharon were going to stay at what was previously Sharon and Dawn's house.

"So. How did it go?" Richard asked smiling.

Watson chuckled.

"You're sewing job looks pretty good," Richard commented to me, then looked down at his plate and continued eating the salad that Dawn and I had made.

I thought that it would take some time to get used to sharing a body with Dawn but I was wrong. I found this out as we made dinner for the four of us. That's what made tonight's food taste so great.


End file.
